


Star-Crossed

by firesonic152



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU where everything is the same except, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Farmer Jack, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, The aliens are a metaphor there are no actual aliens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesonic152/pseuds/firesonic152
Summary: Jack is eighteen years old when he joins the army, full of hopes and dreams, but a string of bad luck lands him right back where he started: tending the family farm in Indiana. With no other prospects to look forward to, he gives up the life of a soldier and resigns himself to his lonely existence.But then, nearly ten years later, an alien crash-lands in his backyard and changes his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know for a fact that this AU has been done before but I wanted to try tackling it myself.

When Jack was eleven years old, a crop circle showed up in his neighbor’s cornfield.

He knew, deep down, that it was just some bored teenagers messing around, but that didn’t stop him and his friends from investing all of their free time into the quietly spreading rumors of aliens. There were several UFO “sightings” over the course of the next few weeks and he remembers begging his parents for a telescope for his birthday. He told them he was just really excited about his science teacher’s lectures on astronomy. Thinking back, there was no way they hadn’t known what he actually wanted it for – to investigate aliens – but they were kind enough to pretend to believe him and he got his telescope.

He has fond memories of that summer. Stealing out of the house at midnight with his friends and setting up his telescope, swatting hands away because he had a right to the first look. When he finally did hand off the scope to the others, he lay out on his back in the grass and marveled at the great expanse of stars above.

He had looked at the stars before, of course – they were a little hard to miss in the rural Midwest. But this time was different. This time, he looked up and knew with a surge of sparks under his skin that there was something out there. He realized for the first time just how small he was, and just how huge the universe could be. It was dizzying. He had to shut his eyes for a moment, the cold expanse of sheer _space_ above his head the most terrifying unknown he had ever come across. But when he opened them again, he saw the stars twinkle and dance and it was beautiful.

The universe is infinite, he had thought. There are infinite possibilities. There’s no way we’re all that is.

All at once, the fear had evaporated. He wasn’t alone. The sky wasn’t empty. His heart was full with planets and galaxies yet to be found and his excitement bubbled over. He would escape this hopeless expanse of land, he vowed. Someday, he would be free of the gravity chaining him to this place called home. He would make something of himself out there, among the ancient stars.

When Jack turned eighteen, he joined the military. It wasn’t quite the glamorous astronaut career he had been planning in his head for the past seven years, but he figured it was his way out. His ticket out of Indiana, his chance to see the world. To discover what was out there.

He was young and stupid back then, head in the clouds and eyes turned to the stars. Maybe if he had bothered glancing down once in awhile he would have seen the land mine before it went off.

He was lucky, they told him afterward. He could have been blown to bits. He should be grateful to get off the hook with mildly impaired vision and two ugly gashes splitting his face down the middle. He should thank god he could still walk, that he had all his limbs, that he could have a future.

Never mind that his negligence had cost his comrades – his _friends_ – their lives. Never mind that there was blood on his hands and he would see the stains on everything he touched for the rest of his own life. Never mind that, just the other day, he had been laughing at Jones for spewing milk out of her nose, had heard all about Miller’s newborn niece in a joyful rush and his plans to visit her next leave, had made fun of Adams for her terrible poker face when they played blackjack…

He was discharged and found himself back in Indiana, twenty-one years old, with no college education and no prospects. His parents were happy to have him help out on the farm and he had no other options. He didn’t have the money to move out and he couldn’t see himself getting a job he would be happy with, considering his lack of a degree.

All things considered, once he resigned himself to farm life, it wasn’t that bad. He liked working with his hands, liked the satisfaction of showering the grime and sweat off his sore muscles at the end of the day. It kept him busy, kept his lingering trauma at bay. Even better, his parents were treating his work as employment and paying him for his efforts so that he could save up for school. This was a setback, but he could handle it. He would earn his future and be better for it.

Then his father was unexpectedly diagnosed with lung cancer. Jack poured all his savings out into helping his parents pay for treatment, but it was no use. His father died the next year.

His mother officially took full ownership of the farm after that, but she wasn’t quite the same. Grief and the simple problem of age was getting to her. She couldn’t handle making decisions or doing much of the physical labor anymore. Jack stepped in and took care of everything.

It wasn’t long before she died as well. She had always loved riding horses – it was one of the few activities she seemed happy doing anymore – so even though Jack knew it was a bad idea, he didn’t protest. That made it all the worse when she did inevitably have a heart attack and fall from her saddle. By the time Jack rushed her to the hospital, it was too late.

Jack had two months until he turned twenty-six years old and he was alone.

The farm was legally his now, but his work was the same. He hired a few of his neighbors’ kids on as farmhands to manage it all during the planting and harvesting seasons, but for the most part kept to himself.

When his birthday came around in August, he dug out his old dusty telescope and set it up in front of the porch. He adjusted it clumsily, having lost the instructions, but managed to see Saturn.

He sat down next to his telescope and looked up. I am small, he realized sadly. Nothing more than a blip in this ancient swath of fabric they called time. What a fool he had been, to think his tiny life would ever make a difference.

If there was something out there, it didn’t care about Jack Morrison.

* * *

Jack is twenty-seven years old when an alien crash-lands in his backyard.

He is woken up abruptly at three in the morning by a huge flash of light and a horrible sound right outside his window. For a moment, he lies in bed and wonders if it would be such a horrible thing if the omnics had finally come to kill him. The news said the omnic forces hadn’t reached the United States yet, but really, it was only a matter of time…

When he doesn’t hear any gunshots, he drags himself out of bed and goes to investigate. He pauses by the kitchen counter on his way out, considering his steak knives. He shifts his flashlight to his other hand to grab one, then shoves his bare feet in some sneakers and hurries out the back door. He finds a massive craggy shape, sitting about fifty feet away from the back of his house, obscured by plumes of smoke too thick for his flashlight to cut through. A few dark shapes stumble from what he assumes to be an aircraft.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he has to inhale to speak. “Hey-“ He stops. Do aliens even understand English? In most of the movies, they seem to either hand-wave that question or use some kind of deus ex machina real-time translation device… He tries making a large gesture with his arm to signal their attention, then almost immediately puts his arm down. What is he _doing_? Aliens are usually hostile, aren’t they? Especially that huge, hulking black shape just beyond his field of clear vision, how many ways could such a monster end his life-

Oh god, he _is_ gonna die tonight. He’s at a low point in his life right now, but he’s not ready to get murdered by fucking _aliens_ – at least not without a fight.

That good old familiar rush of adrenaline kicks its way up from underneath a thin sheet of sleep and apprehension, pushing Jack into gear. He flicks the handle of the knife around to hold it underhand and charges at the threatening, giant shadow with a yell. The alien moves to grab at him, but he’s too fast, darting under the massive limb coming at him and jamming the knife into the thing’s side. The blade glances off – _shit_ , armor, really? _Fuck_ these battle-ready aliens.

Before he can dash back inside to get his shotgun, there’s a prick in the side of his neck and the energy abruptly leaves his body. He falls like a brick onto his side, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on a rock. His hammering heartbeat slows unnaturally, air burning in his throat as his breathing is forcibly dragged back down from near-hyperventilation. His eyes dart around in the dark, unable to move his head, ice blooming in his veins as it becomes apparent he’s been paralyzed by some kind of injection-based drug.

Footsteps – he thinks he can hear five distinct ones as the shapes stand over him. Fucking hell. They’re going to dissect him alive or use him for freaky experiments or maybe just murder him without another thought…

Then, he hears something strange. It sounds like… laughter? It’s coming from over his shoulder so he can’t see – though, with how dark it is, being able to move his head probably wouldn’t make much of a difference – but it’s definitely laughter. _Human_ laughter. Deep, genuine, resonating-in-the-stomach laughter.

The kind of laughter that makes Jack want to curl his fingers around the person’s throat and _squeeze_.

“ _Fuck_ Rein,” the person tries to start but is cut off by another round of cackling. He manages to gasp out, “Holy _shit_ -“

“Calm down, Gabriel,” chides a stern-sounding female voice.

“Ha ha!” A voice that seems to shake the earth chimes in, way too loud. “What a valiant show of courage!”

 _Patronizing asshole_ , Jack thinks savagely.

“No kidding,” says the first person – Gabriel? Jack can hear the grin in his tone and feels a boot nudge gently at his back.

_Get your foot off me or so help me god-_

“You actually darted him?”

“Sleep or paralysis?” asks another, softer masculine voice.

One of the figures kneels down, close enough that Jack can finally make out an actual face for the first time. A woman with handsome features, some kind of tattoo over her eye and long, dark hair swept back over her shoulders. She tilts his head to bare his neck and pulls the needle out expertly, checking it over.

“Small dose,” she confirms. “Just paralysis.”

“It’ll be a miracle if he didn’t get a concussion,” grumbles a thickly accented voice. Something Scandinavian?

Gabriel is still snickering in the background as the woman sighs and feels around Jack’s head for bumps.

“He should be fine,” she says. “Reinhardt, carry him inside.”

 _Hold the fuck on, this is_ my _goddamn property._ The anger boiling steadily in Jack’s gut flares up even higher, only exacerbated by his inability to voice it. Still, in absence of any protest, Jack finds himself hauled up, thrown over the huge guy’s shoulder like a rag doll, and carried unceremoniously inside his own home.

He is going to murder these fake aliens for this as soon as his limbs work again.

“Reinhardt” lays him out on his couch, then steps back for the woman to get in his face again.

“Sorry about this,” she says clinically, removing one of her gloves. She lifts her hand and slaps Jack in the face with an audible _smack_. He yelps, limbs seizing up from the shock of the horrible stinging sensation flickering like a candle right up against his cheek. All at once, his circulation is flowing again and he realizes he can move once more.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he snarls, sitting upright and rubbing his cheek gingerly. He peers around suspiciously at the assholes who have decided to so rudely invade his private living room.

There are five of them, like he thought. The huge one he tried to stab – Reinhardt, apparently – still looks like a monster in the light, albeit a cheery monster with a spirited grin and a stupidly beautiful mane of blond hair. Then there’s the woman, slender and tiny, but the force of that slap and her marksmanship in the pitch dark immediately makes Jack wary of her. An even shorter man stands by the door, bearing a grumpy red face and a truly impressive braided beard. Folded in the dark corner of the room is a tall, gangly man with thin-rimmed glasses, face cast in shadow. And finally…

“Nice to meet you, too,” says the last man with a smug smile. Gabriel. Dark, intelligent eyes set under thick eyebrows, lit up like a stain glass window with the annoying combination of both amusement and superiority. He’s a big guy; not shockingly so, like Reinhardt, but easily well over six feet of sheer muscle. His arms are folded, showing off the bulge of his biceps even under his thick black hoodie. Somehow, his waist-to-hip ratio is unfairly pronounced, even moreso than the woman, pooling right into thighs that look like they could crush rock.

Jack briefly entertains the idea of being choked out by those thighs. Then he remembers how this asshole touched him with the muddy sole of his boot and his fantasy shifts into beating the shit out of this guy’s irritating, sexy bearded face.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Jack says acidly.

“Hold on, sunshine,” Gabriel says like he’s calming a kid. “Look-“

“Don’t call me that,” Jack snaps.

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at him. “Well then, what _should_ I call you?”

Jack narrows his eyes and makes Gabriel wait for his answer. Finally, he pushes “Jack” between his teeth.

“Jack,” Gabriel relents. He tilts his head and looks Jack up and down like he likes what he sees, that smile on his lips only growing bigger. “Mind if we… crash here for the night?”

The woman swats him hard on the shoulder for that pun. Jack’s still-smoldering cheek twinges sympathetically.

“I apologize for him,” she says with a sigh that implies she has had to make such apologies on multiple occasions. “My name is Ana.” She offers her hand and Jack shakes it. Even though his hand dwarves hers, her grip is firm, eye contact unwaveringly direct, and she easily dominates the exchange. “This is, unfortunately, our commander, Gabriel-“

“I’m goddamn Captain America,” Gabriel interrupts, feigning offence. “You don’t appreciate me enough.”

Ana doesn’t take the bait. She points at the strangers around the room in turn. “This is Reinhardt, Torbjörn, and Liao.”

Tobrjörn and Liao both mutter a “hello” while Reinhardt’s greeting shakes the foundation of the house. Jack makes a note to look up if his insurance covers a giant German accidentally shouting his house into rubble.

“Commander,” Jack repeats, stuck on that point. He eyes Reinhardt’s polished silver armor. “You guys are military?”

Ana confirms that with a nod. “A strike team, as it were. Commissioned by the United Nations. The hope is that a small team of highly skilled individuals will be able to do what a huge army cannot. In any case…” She glances at Gabriel. “We were _trying_ to fly from Canada to Brazil. Unfortunately, it seems our plane was sabotaged before takeoff and we had to land here.”

“Okay.” Jack frowns and rubs at the pinprick on his neck. “So, uh. You gonna get it fixed or…?”

“Aye,” Torbjörn says. “The damage assessment will have to wait for daylight, but it will probably take a week or so.”

“A _week?_ ” Jack looks between all their faces. “You- You people can’t just come in here, ruin my backyard with a fucking plane, _dart_ me, barge into my house with your muddy shoes all over my fucking rug, then expect to just stay here for a whole week!” He gestures angrily at Reinhardt. “I don’t even _have_ a bed that could fit you!”

Gabriel shrugs. “Yeah. Although to be fair, you _did_ come at us with a knife, so the darting is kinda justified.”

Jack whips around to glare at Gabriel and only gets that smarmy grin in return.

“ _We understand_ that this is an inconvenience,” Ana cuts in with a pointed look at Gabriel. “And that we are not giving the best first impression. But there is a lot at stake in this war – the future of humanity as a whole depends on us – and we would be truly grateful if you would graciously allow us to stay in your home until we are able to fix our plane.”

Jack drops his head into his hands with a groan, then drags his palms down his face to look up again. “You’re goddamn lucky you have her,” he informs Gabriel with a nod of his head at Ana.

“Trust me, I know,” Gabriel says.

“I can’t say no to saving humanity,” Jack relents, resigned. “Fine. One week.”

He stands up, doing his best to hide how his legs are still shaking a little from whatever was in that dart, and pushes past Reinhardt to get to the kitchen. He opens his fridge, considers for a moment, then pulls out the tupperware of cornbread he made earlier that evening. He arranges six pieces carefully on a plate and sticks it in the microwave.

Gabriel sidles up and peers into the microwave with a hint of excitement. “Wow, you are a good host after all. That looks yummy.”

“It’s not for you,” Jack snaps. “You woke me up at three in the goddamn morning. I’m a farmer, I have to be up with the sun, and you’ve ruined my whole sleep schedule. I’m having a midnight snack and going back to bed.”

Thankfully, Gabriel for once refrains from making any comments when Jack sets the plate of hot cornbread on the living room coffee table, only taking one with him as he returns upstairs to his bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm from New York City and know nothing about farming. I did the best I could based on some minimal research...

Jack manages to get roughly an hour and a half more of sleep before rolling out of bed again at 5:30. The sun won’t be up for another hour or so but the night sky is already beginning to pale.

He takes a quick, hot shower to burn the sleep away and throws on whatever is on top of his designated “clean clothes” pile at the foot of his bed. He briefly considers shaving, considering his stubble is getting pretty thick, but figures it can wait. His hair is a mess, as usual, so he wets his hand, runs it through, and calls it good.

He makes his way downstairs and is almost surprised to see the “aliens” still invading his living room. Ana, Liao, and Torbjörn are all huddled together on the couch, seemingly snoozing, while Reinhardt struggles to pick up all the tiny crumbs scattered around the furniture and carpet from the cornbread with his huge fingers. Gabriel, having foregone the hoodie, is doing pushups, the muscles of his arms and shoulders standing out even more as they strain against his black t-shirt.

It’s too early for this.

“I’m making breakfast,” he announces abruptly to the room as he makes his way to the kitchen. The slumped shapes on the couch stir blearily and Reinhardt gives a hearty wave, then returns his focus to his task.

Gabriel hops up from the floor with far too much energy for this time of day. He follows Jack into the kitchen, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “So, what’s on the menu?”

Jack shoots him a weary look as he gets out a pan. “I’m making breakfast for _me_. You can use the kitchen, but you’re making your own meals and cleaning your own dishes.”

“Sure.” Gabriel nudges him playfully with his elbow. “That’s what you said about the cornbread too. Pretty good, by the way.”

“If I make you an omelet, will you shut up?” Jack growls.

Gabriel opens his mouth to reply but shuts it when Jack raises his eyebrows meaningfully. He nods instead, making a zipping motion across his lips.

Jack starts cracking and whisking eggs with a fork, paying little mind as Gabriel wanders away. He assumes Gabriel had become bored of standing in silence, but then he hears the fridge open. After some rifling, Gabriel returns with an onion, cheese, a bell pepper, mushrooms, and a slab of bacon. He sets them on the counter, then goes searching through the drawers.

“What are you doing?” Jack asks, turning to peer at him suspiciously. Gabriel points at his mouth. Jack sighs and says, “Go ahead.”

“Figured I’d help,” Gabriel explains, pulling open another drawer. “Where do you keep your cutting boards?”

Jack hesitates before muttering, “Next one on the right. Knives in the wood block by the sink.”

Gabriel gives a cheerful, “Thanks!” and goes about grabbing a cutting board and knife.

After a moment, Jack says, “Pass me the bacon. Might as well fry it up since I’m already at the stove.”

Gabriel does so with a hum and Jack takes out another pan, which he covers with olive oil. As he waits for it to heat up a little, he glances over. Gabriel is an expert with a knife, his cuts thin and consistent. His right hand moves along the pepper steadily as he chops with his left, the blade of the knife gliding along his knuckles without halting once. He goes through the pepper in no time and starts on peeling the onion.

Jack didn’t even know he had a thing for competency with a knife, but maybe that’s something to consider now.

Gabriel pauses and looks over at Jack, that grin tugging on the corners of his mouth. “I think the oil is burning.”

Jack startles and refocuses on his own tasks. “Just didn’t realize you were left-handed,” is his excuse as he begins laying out strips of bacon on the hot pan. Sure enough, he had left the oil too long and it hisses at him angrily. A drop jumps up and scalds the side of Jack’s hand. He jumps back, biting off an embarrassing yelp.

Gabriel snickers. “Good to know my hands are that distracting.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about how much I’d love to break every single one of your fingers,” Jack seethes. That only seems to make Gabriel laugh harder. Flushed and freshly annoyed, Jack goes back to his whisked eggs. He mixes in some milk and moves to his other pan.

As he’s pouring out the eggs, Gabriel chimes in, “I make a damn good omelet, by the way. I bet mine are better than yours.”

“Fuck off,” Jack replies, already reaching over to move the bacon to one of the back burners. “Prove it.”

They both end up making ten omelets each. They would have made more, but there had only been so many eggs in Jack’s refrigerator and they soon find their supply depleted. The bacon had charred somewhere around omelet number five, but it was of little concern.

Regardless, they now have twenty omelets – and some pieces of charcoal that were formerly bacon – to split between six people. Jack is kind of annoyed that he let himself get tricked into being a good host and making breakfast for everyone, but it would be worth it to knock Gabriel down a peg.

Jack makes coffee while Gabriel brings plates out to everyone in the living room. He makes a mug for himself and almost leaves it at that, but his competitive streak comes back. He makes a cup for everyone, determined to add another small victory over Gabriel to the scoreboard.

“How in the hell did you have enough eggs to make this many omelets?” is the first thing Jack hears Ana say as he returns to the living room, carefully balancing three mugs in each hand.

“Chickens,” is his one-word reply, nearly spilling coffee setting the mugs down.

“Ah, you raise animals on this farm, yes?” Reinhardt booms.

Jack winces at the volume, but nods as he settles in one of his comfy chairs. “Mostly crops, but I have some chickens. Plus two pigs and one horse. Used to have a lot more, but…” He trails off, unwilling to divulge the details of his life to a group of strangers. “Anyway. Mostly corn and soybeans.”

“I see.” Reinhardt nods sagely.

The conversation drops off and they all dig in to the omelets. The charcoaled bacon lumps go largely ignored, except for by Torbjörn, who makes a point of taking the entire plate for himself.

“So,” Gabriel says once they’re three-fourths through the pile of eggs, “since clearly _I_ made the better omelets, I invite you all to shower me in praise.”

Liao snorts and has to set his mug down before he spills. Gabriel shoots him a look but Liao just shakes his head and glances at Ana.

“Both were good,” she says diplomatically, “but Gabriel… Yours were definitely over-salted.”

“Indeed!” Reinhardt agrees loudly. He lays a huge hand Gabriel on the shoulder. “I am sorry my friend, but we will have to award this victory to Jack.”

Jack almost finds himself grinning. He hastily gulps down some coffee to force it back. “Better luck next time.”

Gabriel kicks him playfully. “It’s called a hustle,” he says. “I _let_ you win this time. Now your guard is down and I’ll destroy you next time.”

“Sure,” Jack drawls. “Especially now that you've let me in on your brilliant plan.”

Gabriel groans and throws his hands up theatrically.

Ana watches him, frowning. “Gabriel… It _is_ odd of you to use too much salt. _Did_ you let-“

“Anyway,” Gabriel cuts her off, clapping his hands together. “Torb, what’s the plan for the ship?”

Torbjörn crunches charred bacon between his teeth thoughtfully. He swallows and says, “I will need Reinhardt to help move the wreckage and Liao on looking into the ship’s software. Ana, we’ll need you as a runner to find new parts.”

They all nod, satisfied with their tasks. Gabriel looks between them, brow furrowed.

“And, what do I do?” he asks.

Torbjörn’s mustache twitches and Jack could swear he sees a hint of mischievousness in his face. “You are our fearless commander. It wouldn’t be my place to tell you what to do.”

“Perfect,” Jack cuts in. “ _You_ can pay rent.”

Gabriel whips around to face him, confused. “What?”

“My roof, my rules,” Jack reasons. “I’m above you… _Commander_ ,” he tacks on snidely.

Ana snorts at that but doesn’t say anything.

“Fine, fair enough,” Gabriel relents. “So what, I do some chores for you to make up for us staying here?”

“Yep.” Jack looks him up and down, internally mocking Gabriel for doing the same to him earlier. “How do you feel about plumbing?”

* * *

“I’ve been a soldier for _eight years_ ,” Gabriel complains. He drops the wrench to count off on his fingers. “Ten weeks of basic, six years of working my way up the ranks, one year of _totally_ illegal injections that should have killed me, and finally, last year, I get my own strike team in a last ditch effort to make a difference in this hell-war against the omnics before humanity is actually _driven to extinction_ -“ He picks the wrench up again and waves it at Jack. “And here you have me, a bona fide super soldier war hero, replacing a filter on a farm in the middle of fucking Indiana.”

Jack watches him, arms crossed and utterly unimpressed. “And you’re not even doing a good job.”

Gabriel grimaces and wipes the sweat on his forehead, having long since discarded his beanie somewhere. He taps the scuffed-up blue cylinder where a pipe runs through it with the end of the wrench. “This stupid thing won’t come out.”

“Some super soldier,” Jack says. “Aren’t you supposed to be really strong?”

“Every time I apply _any_ amount of force, the pipe starts creaking and yelling at me like it’s gonna snap!”

“Look at that,” Jack observes. “You two have something in common.”

Gabriel scowls at him, holding out the wrench. “I’d like to see _you_ do it.”

Jack raises his eyebrows at it. “You really wanna hand your job off to me? You’re supposed to be earning your keep here. If you don’t make yourself useful, then there’s no reason for me to let you eat my food.”

Gabriel groans and turns back around, bracing himself against the cylinder with his right hand as he searches for the best way to attack the pipe. He carefully tries to unscrew it, but sure enough, the pipe begins to tremble and protest. He stops and drops his forehead against the metal in defeat. “I went through _war_ for this.”

“So did I,” Jack snaps, his annoyance finally creeping to the surface. “You’re not special. You’re not _above_ this.”

Gabriel tenses and straightens up, looking over at Jack with the question sitting obviously on the tip of his tongue.

Jack sighs and gestures at the scars on his face. “Three years,” he says reluctantly. “Fucked up. Got sent home. It doesn’t matter.”

There is an awkward silence as Gabriel mulls over an appropriate response. Jack gets tired of waiting and walks a few feet over to the toolshed. He can feel Gabriel’s eyes on him as he rummages around before finally producing a reciprocating saw and a second wrench.

He hands Gabriel the saw and says, “It’s being a bitch because it’s rusty. Cut the rusted parts off and then go back in with the wrench to unscrew the fittings.” He gestures at the two wrenches. “Use one wrench to hold the fitting in place and the other to turn the pipe. That should work better.”

“Oh.” Gabriel glances down at the power saw in his hands and then back up at Jack, clearly surprised to have been helped instead of yelled at. “Thanks.”

Jack waves him off. “I gotta go check on the chickens. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

As he takes his leave, Gabriel calls after him, “Wait- I wanna see the chickens!”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Finish replacing that drip irrigation filter. Then we’ll talk.”


	3. Chapter 3

It isn’t supposed to get to 80 degrees Fahrenheit in May, but global warming is a bitch and so is the sun. Jack sweats right through his dark t-shirt and by noon, he’s tossed it aside somewhere. He’s got mud streaks everywhere from dealing with the pigs, who had decided to be extra fussy today. He longs for a cold midday shower and a nap. Now is probably a good time to start thinking about lunch and wait out the hottest part of the day.

He finds Gabriel checking over the pipes on the new filter for potential leakages. “Finally got it working?” he asks in lieu of announcing his presence.

Gabriel turns to give him a spotlight-bright grin that somehow manages to compete with the merciless sun beating down on them. It makes Jack wince and squint.

“Finally got it! I double checked every fitting so…” Gabriel trails off as he looks Jack over. He seems to lose his train of thought and Jack all at once remembers his sweaty, mud-stained, _very_ bare upper half.

“Took you long enough,” Jack says to break the silence, crossing his arms a little self-consciously.

This move does not seem to deter Gabriel. If anything, his dumb stare focuses, distinctly zeroing in on Jack’s chest. _Huh…_

“Gabriel,” Jack tries, annoyed.

Gabriel snaps to attention. “Uh-“ He reaffixes his grin on his face, slightly off-kilter. “Sorry. Your tan lines are hilarious.”

Jack rubs at the stark line around his bicep, calculating. He sees Gabriel follow the movement from the corner of his eye. Interesting. “Wanna come inside?”

Gabriel blinks at him. “What?”

“It’s lunchtime,” Jack clarifies. “And it’s hot. Break time.”

“Oh.” Gabriel glances away, rubbing at his neck. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Jack grunts and they make their way back to the house. Gabriel sneaks side-glances at Jack the whole way and Jack pretends not to notice. They find the rest of the strike team already gathered in the living room, laughing and chattering amongst themselves.

“And as usual, I’m the only one actually doing any work,” Gabriel grumbles.

“Nonsense!” booms Reinhardt. “Torbjörn is the finest engineer I have ever known! He has inspired efficiency in us all.”

“We’re ahead of schedule,” Torbjörn clarifies smugly. “I’ve already assessed most of the damage to the ship.”

“Also, we raided your fridge and made mac and cheese,” Ana adds.

“So much mac and cheese.” Liao holds up his bowl piled high with cheesy pasta, a haunted look in his eye. “ _So much_.”

There’s more waiting in a pot on the stove, still warm. Jack serves himself a bowl, not sure how to feel about coming back from work to find other people in his house ready with lunch. It prickles strangely in his chest. He looks up and finds Gabriel staring for just a moment until he realizes he’s been spotted. He pointedly diverts his attention elsewhere and the squirming thing in Jack’s ribcage grows thorns.

Jack scarfs his food down still standing at the kitchen counter, washes his dish, and skirts around the edge of the living room to get to the stairs. Thankfully, no one tries to stop him for conversation. He makes it upstairs and quickly strips off his pants and underwear to hop in the shower.

He sticks his head under the spray and shuts his eyes for a moment, letting the water run down his face. That weird look Gabriel gave him flashes in front of him and he moves out from under the water to wipe his eyes on a towel. His plan had been to just rinse off the worst of the mud and then get back to business, but he finds himself examining his skin, the patchwork of little white scars crisscrossing over his hands and arms.

The worst, of course, is the one he can’t see. He holds his breath and runs a finger down his face, feeling the ugly raised ridge slicing clean through his forehead, over his nose, down to the corner of his mouth. He swallows the poison pooling in the back of his throat and drops his hand.

“Jack?”

He jumps, startled by Gabriel’s voice calling for him from the hallway, and nearly slips. “What?” he yells back, shutting off the water. Gabriel says something but it’s too muffled to hear. Jack grimaces as he wraps his towel around his waist and throws the bathroom door open. “ _What?_ ” he repeats.

Gabriel doesn't bother disguising his stare this time, eyes darting all over Jack’s dripping wet body. “Uh.”

“Yes?” Jack prompts impatiently.

Gabriel visibly has to pull his thoughts back together and it takes him a beat. “Uh- well- last night we didn’t really discuss sleeping arrangements and Ana and Liao both really wanna take naps.”

Jack sighs as he runs through his options. “I’ve got two extra beds and three couches. The beds are in the guest room down the hall. Pull-out couch in the attic. Another couch in the study at the end of the hall, one downstairs in the living room. You all get to fight it out yourselves.”

Gabriel nods along, pointedly looking at the wall behind Jack.

Jack thinks for another moment, then adds, “Extra pillows are in the closet in the guest room. Blankets too. Not that you’ll want them in this weather but…”

“Thanks,” Gabriel says and promptly makes his escape, walking away with purpose. He stops halfway to the stairs, then turns back around mechanically. “Uh, you mind if I get in a quick nap too, or…?”

Jack gives him a blank stare just to see him squirm for a second. Right as Gabriel opens his mouth, presumably to take it back, Jack says, “Sure,” and shuts the bathroom door. Through the door, he doesn’t hear Gabriel move for at least a minute before the sound of his footsteps finally signals movement to the guest room.

Having regained his privacy, Jack sets about toweling off properly. Once he’s swiped it through his hair, he takes a small breath and turns his attention to the bathroom mirror. The fog has dissipated completely by now, and his features are reflected back at him with unfortunate clarity. At least, as clearly as any image he views without his glasses these days.

He peers into the mirror, scrutinizing his face. He really doesn't look like he’s in his late twenties, he muses, prodding at the touch of gray that lines the blond hair around his temples like a threat. It doesn’t help that he’s always losing his glasses and refuses to wear contacts, which forces him to squint at everything and is starting to engrave wrinkles around his eyes and forehead. The gnarled scar running right through the middle, jagging across the bridge of his crooked nose and tugging the corner of his mouth into a perpetual faint sneer, completes the effect of a man at least ten years older.

 _Goddammit_ , he thinks, rubbing at his stubbled jaw, _starting to look like dad._

An indistinct yelp jolts him from his thoughts. Suppressing a groan, he tugs his pants back on and sticks his head into the hallway. Sure enough, Gabriel comes stumbling out of the guest room, eyes huge.

“You have a cat,” he states, disbelieving.

Jack purses his lips. “Yes.”

Gabriel’s shocked expression morphs into a look of utter delight. “You didn’t say you had a cat!” He darts back into the room like a kid on Christmas.

Jack sighs and follows. He finds Gabriel halfway under the bed, wiggling awkwardly as he presumably reaches for the cat. Like he needed another reminder about Gabriel’s nice ass.

“Come on baby,” Gabriel coos. “Hey darling, sweetheart, come here…”

Hearing a battle-worn super soldier try to woo a small furry animal with adorable pet names bubbles uncomfortably in Jack’s gut. He decides to ignore it. “Her name is Bunny. And she gets nervous around strangers.”

“Bunny!” Gabriel struggles to get out from under the bed and bangs his head against the frame. Once extricated, he rubs at it gingerly as he crosses his legs on the floor, his smile no less bright for it. “That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“I didn’t name her,” Jack scoffs, even though he agrees. “Family down the road gave her to me as a kitten. The kids named her.” And he never changed her name because, as they had already established, it was the cutest shit he’d ever heard.

“I always wanted a cat,” Gabriel chatters excitedly. “Mom’s allergic so I never had one as a kid, and then I couldn’t have a pet in the dorms at school so that was a no-go, then obviously same deal in the military…”

Jack tilts his head. “School?”

“Yeah, I was lucky enough to have a mom who really valued education,” Gabriel says, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “She refused to let me join the military until I’d gotten my bachelor’s. Teacher, ya know? And she didn’t even complain when I told her I wanted to get my degree in theater.”

“Theater?” Jack repeats, caught off-guard by the disconnect in a college theater nerd becoming a fairly high-ranking military officer. Once he thinks about it, though, it kind of makes sense, given Gabriel’s… dramatics.

“I was more into set building and costumes than performing,” Gabriel explains, “but yeah. And being in LA for that kind of thing was a plus too.”

It strikes Jack that he knows nothing about this man. He doesn’t _want_ to know more, he quickly adds in his head. Gabriel is a stranger who will be leaving in six days and they will never see each other again. Even more than that, Gabriel is a soldier fighting an impossible war. Despite leaders all over the world still vainly rallying hope for humanity’s victory, Jack can’t seem to imagine the omnics losing.

Which means Gabriel will almost certainly die. It would be pointless to form some kind of connection, Jack tells himself, even as he asks, “LA – that where you from?”

“Born and raised,” Gabriel confirms, puffing out his perfectly sculpted chest proudly.

_Goddammit. Stop. He may be the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, but he’s also annoying and shitty at following directions and definitely going to get himself killed._

Thankfully, Jack is spared from having to respond as Gabriel remembers the cat. He lays back down on his front and peers under the bed, reaching his arm out. “Bunny, here baby…”

As tempting as this opportunity to blatantly ogle Gabriel’s backside is, Jack can feel his chest starting to squeeze around his lungs. He quietly exits the room, hoping not to be noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Bunny! Indisputably the best Overwatch OC ever created. She's a cat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, some chickens.

“People suck,” Jack informs the chickens as they noisily peck at the feed scattered around the ground. One wanders over to inspect Jack’s shoe and he gives it an affection pat. “Yeah, Rex, you get me.”

He sits heavily on a wooden bench in the shade and watches the chickens mill about. He hadn’t quite realized how much all this socializing had drained him until just now, as he finally has a moment to himself. How long has it been since he’s had to deal with people like this? Sure, there’s always the neighbors, the farmhands, customers when he sells his crops, but as far as _living_ with other human beings…

He exhales heavily and runs a sweaty hand through his hair. Actually, it’s been almost two years exactly.

“Next month’s the anniversary, Barry,” he tells the chicken pecking curiously at his ankle. “Should probably do something for mom’s grave, huh. What do you think?”

Barry, being a chicken, does not reply.

Yeah, okay, maybe he really does need some human company after all that time alone.

“You guys are shitty friends,” he grumbles as he stands up. Another chicken squawks at him, as if offended. “Shut up, Dee, you’re the worst of them all.” He kicks in Dee’s direction and the chicken scampers away. “Fuckin’ useless loafers, I swear to god, all you do is eat and shit…”

“Hey now, I thought I was earning my keep.”

Jack jolts and whips around to find Gabriel waving at him, a lazy grin on his face.

“Barely,” Jack replies, the smear of warmth in his cheeks entirely unrelated to sunburn. “Anyway, I wasn’t talking to you. Weren’t you gonna nap?”

Gabriel shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s too hot. It’s the 21st century Jack, how have you not heard of air conditioning?”

“I _have_ air conditioners.” Jack says through his teeth. “It just doesn’t usually get so hot so early in the season. I bring them out in June.”

Gabriel looks at him like he’s just grown a new limb. “You bring them… Oh my god Jack, you have air conditioning _units_?”

“What the fuck _else_ would I have?”

“A thermostat, Jack. A house with basic temperature control.”

“Fuck you,” Jack says, but the heat is sapped right out of his tone into the heavy air and it comes out winded, tired.

Gabriel tries to convert his chuckle into a cough but fails miserably. “You’re just a ball of sunshine, aren’t you?”

Jack doesn’t have the energy for a snarky reply so he just throws up a quick middle finger. It only makes Gabriel break down and laugh more.

“Christ.” He wipes at his eye. “Anyway, more importantly, did I hear you wrong or did you call that chicken ‘Dee’?”

Jack glances at the chicken in question. “Yeah. It’s her nickname.”

“Her… nickname?”

He shuffles, hesitant, but nods. “Short for Dilophosaurus.”

Gabriel very deliberately and obviously schools his amusement into something like genuine interest. “Where in the hell did you get a name like that? Sounds like a dinosaur.”

“It is,” Jack confirms tentatively, anticipating an over-the-top reaction. “They’re, uh.” He jerks his head in the direction of the chickens. “They’re all… named after dinosaurs.”

Surprisingly, this time, Gabriel doesn’t laugh. He instead replies with a sincere, “Really?”

Jack is a little taken aback. Of all the things to make fun of, he would have thought this would be the one. “Yeah.”

“What are their other names?”

“Um.” He points each of the chickens out in turn. “The biggest one is Rex – obviously, Tyrannosaurus – you already know Dee, there’s Barry – uh, Baryonyx – and Acro, Acrocanthasaurus, that’s Spinosaurus, and Yuutyrannus…” He trails off and rubs at his neck. “Yeah.”

“Wow.” Gabriel actually sounds impressed. “I’ve never even heard of any of those. Apart from T-Rex, but…”

“I was pretty into Jurassic Park as a kid,” Jack admits quickly. “So, you know.”

Gabriel gives him a blank stare and Jack’s mouth drops.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Jurassic Park.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

Jack counts to three in his head to avoid smacking this man in the face. “Oh my god.”

“It’s like, an old movie though, right?” Gabriel takes out his phone and starts typing. “From 2018- ow!” He rubs at his shoulder gingerly where Jack had punched him, a wounded look on his face. “What the fuck?”

“There is only one Jurassic Park and it was made in 1993,” Jack says solemnly.

“Shit Jack, that’s like half a century ago.” Gabriel rubs at his jaw, scrutinizing him. “What are you, like, eighty? You gotta tell me what moisturizer you’re using, it’s amazing.”

“Close,” Jack replies dryly. “Seventy, actually.”

The corner of Gabriel’s lip pulls into a smile, almost involuntarily. “Damn. I’ve never been with an older man before.”

Jack freezes at the suggestive nature of that comment, fixing Gabriel with an impassive stare. Gabriel crumples a little and starts fidgeting with a loose corner of his phone case.

“Just, uh.” He clears his throat. “I mean. How old are you really?”

“Almost twenty-eight,” Jack says after a beat. “What are you, ten?”

“Twelve,” Gabriel corrects, visibly relieved to have more banter to cling to. “Can’t you tell?”

Jack snorts. “Pretty young to have a beard.”

Gabriel laughs softly but doesn't seem to have a comeback. They watch the chickens in uncertain silence.

“I’m uh, I’m twenty-nine,” he tacks on. “Just, by the way.”

“Mm.” Jack gives him a sideways glance. “Look, if you’re not gonna nap, I have more jobs for you.”

“Right.” Gabriel pockets his phone and shakes out his hands, as if to wave away the tension. “What’s next?”

* * *

Dinner is a little uncomfortable for Jack.

It’s been a long time since he sat at the dining room table. He usually prefers eating on the couch, or taking his plate up to the study to do work at his desk. Even when his parents were around after he came back from the army, they tended to watch TV while they ate.

So now he’s gone from curling up with a bowl of cereal in his bed to sitting upright at the table sandwiched between Torbjörn and Gabriel, with Ana and Liao across from him while Reinhardt is squeezed into a chair at the head because it’s the only place the huge German will fit and… it’s weird. Even worse, he’s sitting with a group of people who are a bonded unit and even though this is his own home, he’s the outsider. While they all seem to be having a grand time, he’s left to silently pick at the slab of mysterious meat on his plate as the boisterous banter and inside jokes all fly around over his head.

At least Reinhardt’s “traditional German cooking” – whatever that means – is edible, if enigmatic.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve said that!” Ana cries, incensed enough to hop to her feet with her palms pressed flat to the tabletop. “But I’m telling you-“

“I think I can handle my own text messages, thank you,” Liao replies coolly.

“And yet, the Christmas party-“ Torbjörn starts to say but Liao goes bright red and throws a slice of potato at him.

“You show great courage in bringing up the Christmas Party, old friend!” Reinhardt laughs heartily. “Considering your own condition at the time.”

“Ingrid and I are just fine,” Torbjörn replies smoothly. “Our youngest turns one this coming September. I’ll let you do the math.”

Everyone wrinkles their noses at that except Reinhardt, who guffaws and slaps him on the back hard enough to sound painful.

Gabriel is snickering as he leans over to tell Jack quietly, “Torb here likes to dress up as Santa every year and it goes about as well as you’d think.”

Jack nods, as if he has enough information to judge how well such a thing could go.

He waits it out a little longer, but eventually the simmering claustrophobia of being surrounded by people talking on all sides drives away his appetite for good. There’s something about the volume that makes the air denser, makes him feel like he’s packed in among hundreds rather than just five other people. He stands abruptly and brings his plate to the kitchen. There’s no discernible break in the conversation as he sneaks back upstairs, for which he is thankful.

As soon as he gets to his room and shuts the door behind him, he exhales, heavy with relief. He doesn’t bother turning on the light. Instead, he falls into bed face-first and resolves to lay there for awhile. He hasn’t been this exhausted in a long time. Night hasn’t quite fallen outside yet, but with the shades drawn, his room is dark and still warm from the day.

He drops off to sleep without realizing it until he’s woken up again by a knock on the door. He drags himself upright, rubbing at his eyes as he looks around in the darkness. He’s dizzy and overheated but he forces himself out of bed and wobbles to the door, opening it slowly with one hand while he flicks on the light with the other.

Gabriel stands there in the hallway, a sheepish smile on his face as he holds up a slice of pie and a fork. “Hey. Sorry, Reinhardt used up your apples making dessert. But I- we figured you’d probably want some.”

Jack blinks at it, eyes still a little unfocused. “Thanks.”

Neither of them move.

“We’ll uh-“ Gabriel clears his throat. “We’ll compensate you for the food, by the way. And also for staying here. We didn’t talk about it before, and it’s probably expected, but I thought I should make sure that was communicated to you properly.”

“Thanks,” Jack says again.

They manage eye contact for a few seconds, but Gabriel breaks it to look down at the pie, the tips of his ears noticeably red. “So…” He holds the plate out to Jack. “You want it?”

“I don’t really…” … _like sweets_ , Jack starts to say, but it dies in the sleep-worn scratching ridges of his throat. He accepts the plate and retreats back into his room. He sets it on his bedside table and looks back to see Gabriel still standing in the hallway like he doesn’t know where to go.

He sighs and gestures for him to come in. Gabriel’s eyes widen a bit, but he still doesn’t move.

“Jesus, get in here,” Jack growls, turning to his pie. “And shut the door behind you.”

Gabriel startles and hurries inside, doing as Jack said and shutting the door. He stands in the center of the room, looking around with poorly concealed curiosity.

Jack sits on the bed and gives him a tired glance. He pats the spot next to him once. “Sit.”

Gabriel ducks his head and obeys, sitting on the opposite end of the mattress. Jack sets the plate between them and takes a bite of the pie, then holds the fork out to Gabriel.

“I already had some,” Gabriel protests, but Jack silently stares him down until he takes it. He carefully gets a forkful that is equal parts filling and crust, then pops it into his mouth. He smiles as he chews it.

“I knew it,” Jack says.

“What?” Gabriel asks, muffled by the pie in his mouth.

“You like sweets.”

“Ha-“ Gabriel swallows and grins. “You got me. Ana’s always on my ass about brushing my teeth, saying that she might be able to heal gunshot wounds, but she’s no dentist.”

“Hm.”

They sit quietly after that, Gabriel occasionally stealing bites of pie while Jack pretends not to notice. It’s surprisingly nice, just being next to one other person without any pressure to talk or do anything. To be satisfied with merely existing together in close proximity.

He watches Gabriel out of the corner of his eye. The man has more muscles than the human body should have room for, but something about him in this moment is soft. Maybe it’s the way his upturned mouth pushes his cheeks up, dulling the severe edge of his cheekbones and making his whole face appear rounder.

Jack tries not to dwell on it, but whatever scrap of sentiment is left in him insists on one simple observation: Gabriel really does have a beautiful smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my buddy [Mic](https://twitter.com/chibidudecos) who used their extensive knowledge of both dinosaurs and chickens to come up with the names for all the chickens! Go check out their awesome cosplay!!


	5. Chapter 5

“God _damn_ it’s hot,” Gabriel huffs as he lugs the air conditioner up the final step and onto the landing of the stairs.

“You’re the only one complaining,” Jack replies from the study, opening the window.

“I’m also the only one _carrying_ these oversized paperweights.”

“And you’re the only one that wanted them.”

“Because it was too hot to sleep last night,” Gabriel grumbles as he hauls the air conditioner into the room.

Jack turns to face him. “Didn’t you say you were from LA? Shouldn’t you be used to it?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes dramatically. “In LA, we have markers of a basic civilization. Like fucking _air conditioning_.”

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Jack says.

“I’m dying, Jack.” Gabriel leans against the wall and slides to the floor, a hand thrown over his forehead. “I’m… melting… Help, I think I’m going to faint…”

“The more you fuck around, the longer it will take to get this air conditioner installed,” Jack says, exasperated.

“It’s too late for me,” Gabriel stage-whispers, reaching out for Jack with a trembling hand. “Go – save yourself!”

Jack watches Gabriel’s outstretched arm drop pathetically, inhales to keep himself from saying something mean, and marches to the bathroom. He fills a cup with ice-cold water and returns to unceremoniously dump it over Gabriel’s head.

Gabriel _screams_.

If Jack didn’t know any better, he’d have thought the sound was the screech of rubber meeting concrete from a car skidding off into a metal guard rail. Thoroughly startled and now dripping wet, Gabriel launches off the floor to his feet. He gapes at Jack, his arms ramrod straight and held away from his sides like he wants them to be flat against his body but some magnetic force prevents them from connecting. His expression is such a genuine mix of betrayal and shock that-

Jack laughs before he can help it. It bubbles out of his throat involuntarily, dinged up from the gravel in his voice and shaking off dust from disuse, but nevertheless unmistakable. He self-consciously claps a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late. He and Gabriel stare at each other, neither sure what to make of it.

“You asshole,” Gabriel finally says, like he’s come to some grand revelation. “If you wanted me to take off my fucking shirt, you could have just asked.”

Jack’s willpower breaks and suddenly he’s doubled over with what can only be described as _cackling_.

It’s not that funny, it really isn’t, but something about Gabriel’s gall in interpreting such an outright hostile move as a poor flirtation attempt just makes Jack crumble. He has to steady himself against the wall, fighting for air as he gets himself under control, still grinning helplessly. It hurts a little, but it’s a satisfying kind of ache in his cheeks and in the pit of his stomach.

Gabriel is watching him intently, eyes a little wide and adding a nervous tension to his weak smile. “Damn, didn’t know you could laugh.”

“I’m just full of surprises,” Jack replies, trying to school his expression and only succeeding to a marginal degree.

“That so?” Gabriel rubs at the back of his neck as he glances down. The tips of his ears are tinted red.

Before Jack can respond, footsteps come running down the hall and soon enough, Ana barges into the room.

“Is anyone dying?” she demands. “We heard a scre…” She trails off, looking between the two men, Jack still obviously fighting down his grin and Gabriel dripping wet. Something passes over Ana’s face - perhaps a kind of understanding, because all her worry disappears in an instant to be replaced with a Cheshire cat-like smirk. “Oh-ho. I see.”

Gabriel visibly bristles as he rounds on her. “You see nothing!”

She taps the tattoo under her eye, the curl of her lips looking more and more evil by the second. “Oh, this eye sees _all_ , Gabriel.”

“You’re asking for it,” Gabriel growls, punching his fist into his other palm with a threatening clap.

“Oh look at the time!” Ana flits back to the door and winks suggestively. “Sorry for interrupting, boys.” Giggling, she disappears, presumably back downstairs.

“I swear to god, that woman,” Gabriel groans, burying his face in his hands. “I’m gonna kill her someday.”

Jack had been pleased about finally being able to return to his poker face, but he finds himself smiling faintly again. “I doubt you’d be able to get within fifteen feet of her before she puts a bullet through your head.”

“Try fifteen hundred,” Gabriel grumbles. “Fucking sniper.”

That gets another chuckle out of Jack and Gabriel’s red ears turn just a bit darker.

“You’re hot,” Jack observes.

Gabriel jumps and his voice is oddly pitched when he asks, “What?”

“The air conditioning,” Jack reminds him. He pats the unit. “Come on. Let’s get this sucker installed so you can quit whining about it.”

“Oh- haha, right.” Gabriel exhales and crouches to pick it back up again. If Jack happens to get a nice shot of his ass and thighs as he’s lifting it up, it's of no importance.

* * *

Later, Jack is passing through the hallway when he overhears Gabriel talking on the other side of the wall.

“I swear to god he’s doing it on purpose.”

“Then call him out,” comes Liao’s muffled reply.

“But what if he’s _not_ doing it on purpose?”

“Then stop worrying about it.”

“But-“

Jack keeps walking and the voices fade.

Is he doing it on purpose?

* * *

Ana is practically leering at dinner that night. When Jack and Gabriel sit next to each other at the table, she nudges Torbjörn and they exchange conspiratorial whispers while Reinhardt does his best to eavesdrop, seeming mildly unhappy to be left out. Gabriel doesn’t hold back and turns his full-powered glare on all of them, but it only seems to encourage the secretive antics. All in all, they’re pretty obvious.

“Leeches,” Gabriel says, scowling. Ana throws him a middle finger in response.

Jack doesn’t acknowledge it; he doesn’t mind them gossiping. He knows Gabriel is attracted to him.

Here's the undeniable problem: Gabriel is going to die.

All of them are, actually. Of that, Jack can be sure. The thought comes back to him again as he watches them squabble over the meatballs Torbjörn made. It’s the only certain fact of life; death waits at the end. For some, it comes a little sooner than for others. But inevitably, death comes for everyone. Whether it’s in the form of a cancer cell or a bullet when it arrives doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.

Gabriel and his strike team are going to leave in a few days and never return. The clock is ticking and they’re running out of time fast.

Jack has yet to decide what the remaining time is worth.

* * *

Jack walks into the kitchen at four in the afternoon for a glass of water and finds Gabriel cobbling together a bowl of tuna and some other mysterious fowl-smelling substances. He gets a cup, fills it from the sink, and goes to lean against the far counter as he sips it, waiting for an explanation.

Sure enough, after a minute, Gabriel pipes up, “I’m gonna make Bunny like me.”

Jack raises an eyebrow but Gabriel just gives him a thumbs-up.

“No cat can resist this,” he says confidently.

“You make a habit out of tricking strange cats into coming within petting distance?” Jack asks.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Watch and learn.” He balances the bowl in one hand and gives Jack a flirty two-fingered “come with me” gesture before marching to the stairs.

Well. Jack can’t say no to that, can he.

Still sipping idly at his water, he trails after Gabriel up the stairs and into the study. Gabriel kneels and takes out his phone, using the flashlight feature to check that Bunny is under the bed up against the far wall.

“She’s there all right,” he confirms as he sits back, crossing his legs and setting the bowl out in front of him. He fiddles with his phone for another second, then holds it out to Jack. When Jack doesn’t take it right away, he waves it. “Come on, I want pictures of this. It’ll be adorable.”

“You or the cat?” Jack asks as he takes the phone.

“What kinda question is that?” Gabriel gives him a wounded look. “I’m pretty adorable you know.”

Jack swallows back a smirk. “I meant what you wanted pictures of. But now that you mention it…” He makes a show of looking Gabriel over, then shaking his head with a disappointed sigh.

Gabriel’s ears tint red and he scowls. “Shut the fuck up man.”

Jack snaps a picture and manages to capture the most ridiculous image of Gabriel with the muscles of his face screwed up angrily, mid-blink and slightly blurred. He holds it out for Gabriel to see. “You’re right, that’s pretty adorable.”

“Oh my god,” Gabriel groans. But before he can reply, a small movement draws both of their attention.

A small furry head peeks out from under the bed, large blue eyes peering at both of them suspiciously. Gabriel goes stock still, waiting for the cat to move.

Bunny sniffs at the air and zeroes in on the bowl. She puts a paw out, but pauses and glances at Gabriel again. When he doesn’t react at all to her, she slowly emerges out from under the bed. Gabriel is unable to contain a small gasp at her appearance, and Jack preens internally. Bunny is a beautiful cat, a munchkin with thick, fluffy white fur, the perfect combination of elegance and cuteness. Jack is quite proud of her, though he’s loath to admit it.

She approaches cautiously, putting one tiny paw in front of the other at a measured pace until she reaches the bowl. Gabriel holds his breath as she sniffs at it before taking a small bite. Seeming to deem it worthy of her attention, she begins to eat it in earnest. Jack can’t resist getting a picture of her chowing down while Gabriel watches her in blatant awe.

When she gets about halfway through the food offering, she lifts her head to sniff around again. Gabriel takes the opportunity to carefully lift his hand and hold it out to her, keeping a fair amount of space between them. She eyes him warily and Jack fully expects her to run back under the bed. To his surprise, she instead rubs gingerly against his hand and Gabriel coos quietly. He manages to pat her on the head before she returns her attention to the remaining food.

Jack whistles. “Damn. I’m impressed. Figured she’d stay under there the whole week. She hates company.”

Gabriel taps next to his eye, a smug look on his face. “It’s all right here. If you just blink slowly, it means you trust her not to attack when your eyes are closed. And if you show you trust her, she’ll be more willing to trust you.”

“Is that right…”

“Mutual trust, Jackie, that’s the key to every relationship,” Gabriel says with the confidence of someone thirty years his senior.

Jack frowns. “Jackie?”

“Yeah-“ Gabriel cuts off as Bunny, having finished her meal, abruptly crawls into his lap. Jack can practically see Gabriel’s heart explode out of his chest as he gapes at her.

Bunny pays him no mind. She circles for a moment, then curls up in a little ball. Gabriel tentatively strokes the top of her head and she seems to accept it without complaint. He breaks out into a huge grin, the kind of giddy joy that only a small furry animal can bring into a human’s life. With that million-watt smile, the barest hint of dimples are visible around his mouth, obscured a little by his beard. Jack is reminded again of just how much smiling softens him, crinkles at the corners of his eyes and brings out a heartfelt warmth that shouldn’t exist in someone who’s seen war.

Jack is just thankful that Gabriel is too distracted by the cat to notice him staring.

“Picture,” Gabriel reminds him quietly, utterly enraptured as he scratches behind Bunny’s ear.

“Oh-“ Jack fumbles with Gabriel’s phone. “Uh, say cheese.”

Gabriel turns his beaming grin to the camera and Jack is a little dazzled. He manages to get a decent shot, though it’s preceded by at least three blurry failures.

“Got it.”

“Thanks.” Gabriel returns his full attention to the cat. He doesn’t seem to notice when Jack sneaks his own phone out of his pocket and nabs a quick picture for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to [Oricalcon](https://twitter.com/Monsterfuq) for the [beautiful sketch of Gabriel petting Bunny](https://twitter.com/Monsterfuq/status/962097299022340097)!! Go check out the rest of their art if you haven't already!


	6. Chapter 6

Jack’s head pounds in a dull rhythm as he squints at the flier in his hands, struggling to read the tiny letters. His eyes dart around the paper before coming back to settle on the first line, as if the words are making things difficult for him on purpose and if he can just catch them off guard, he’ll be able to read them before they melt away. Unfortunately, he has no such luck and the strain of it only makes his brain scream more insistently at him to _stop_.

Cursing under his breath, he throws the paper down onto the table and starts searching every nook and cranny of the living room. Gabriel walks in on him the moment he starts throwing the couch cushions onto the floor.

“Oh, is it pillow fort time?” Gabriel asks with a toothy grin. “Damn, why didn’t you tell me?”

Jack’s response is to throw a pillow directly at his face.

Unfazed, Gabriel carefully sets the pillow aside and leans over to observe. “What are we doing here?”

“Lost my fucking reading glasses,” Jack grumbles as he continues taking apart the couch. When he overturns the last cushion to no avail, he hisses “ _fuck_ ” and pushes it back into place with decidedly more force than necessary.

Gabriel chuckles as he begins helping pick up the pillows tossed haphazardly around the room. “You need reading glasses? How old _are_ you?”

“I got stabbed in the face with a piece of shrapnel and it fucked up my short-range vision, give me a fucking break,” Jack snaps.

“Oh.”

Gabriel falls silent. There’s a tension in the air as they begin replacing the cushions on the couch, but Jack’s head still feels like it’s being steadily hit with a mallet and he isn’t in the mood to do anything about it.

“I’ve never seen you wearing them,” Gabriel pipes up after a while of searching the room aimlessly. “The glasses.”

“They make me look like a grandpa,” Jack grunts. He kneels to check under the coffee table. “Or worse, my dad,” he amends after some thought.

Gabriel hums and moves to search the kitchen. They manage to work in silence for a few seconds, until Jack tries to stand up and slams his knee into the edge of the coffee table. He curses violently at it, and he can hear Gabriel cracking up from the other room.

Before Jack can yell at him to shut up, Gabriel calls out, “Found ‘em!” He moves to stand in the kitchen doorway, holding up the pair of bright red glasses, eyes sparkling victoriously. “They were by the microwave.”

Jack groans as he gets up and goes to snatch his glasses back. “Of course they were. Can never fucking read the print on food packaging.”

He returns to the table and puts them on, heaving a sigh as he finally gets to read the flier that had been left on his doorstep. Unsurprisingly, it contains completely inconsequential information about some fair the local high school is putting on. Decidedly not worth the effort.

Gabriel is still hovering, so Jack puts the flier down and gives him an insincere, “Thanks,” hoping it will send him away.

It is to no avail. Gabriel just shrugs and smiles. “If those glasses make you look like your dad, I’d have to say your dad is a pretty handsome fella.”

“He’s dead,” Jack says without missing a beat.

Gabriel flushes and clears his throat, glancing down. “Oh. Uh, sorry to hear that.”

Jack waves him off, folding up the flier and standing to deposit it in the wastepaper basket. “Doesn’t matter. Look, I’ve got a combine harvester that needs a check-up so if you’re not too busy…” His tone is acid, clearly broadcasting the end of the conversation.

Gabriel gets the message this time and nods. “Right. Yeah. Sorry.” He turns his back to go and there’s something sad about the slope of his shoulders that gives Jack pause.

“Uh-“ Jack surprises himself when he speaks up. Gabriel looks back and as their eyes meet, Jack gets the feeling he missed an opportunity somewhere in this interaction. “Thanks,” he says, a little rushed but genuine this time, trying vainly to salvage the moment.

There’s a faint impression of a dimple at the corner of Gabriel’s mouth, a crinkle around his eyes, and he nods. Jack nearly asks him to wait a moment, but he doesn’t know what he would say after that so he lets it go.

Once he’s alone again, he immediately regrets that decision.

* * *

“Is the ship repaired yet?” Gabriel asks at dinner. He seems antsy as he picks at his broccoli, looking between the members of his strike team for an answer.

“She’ll be ready when she’s ready,” Torbjörn assures him.

“Plenty of time to get things done in the meanwhile,” Ana adds, sending a meaningful glance Jack’s way.

Gabriel narrows his eyes at them. “Do I really need to remind you that we have a war to win and no more time to waste?”

“Then we had _all_ better get our asses in gear,” Ana teases.

Jack continues to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about and innocently asks Liao to pass the salad dressing.

* * *

Jack is collecting chicken eggs when Gabriel approaches him the next morning.

“Uh, hey.” Gabriel’s smile is uncharacteristically meek. He gives Jack a little wave, but when he doesn’t get one back, he puts his arm down.

“What?” Jack asks, refocusing on his task.

“Just wanted to say I’m sorry. About yesterday. Bringing up a bunch of things you didn’t want to talk about.” Gabriel takes a small breath. “The ship is probably going to be done by tomorrow night, so I think we’ll be leaving the next morning. I didn’t want to leave things… awkward.”

That makes Jack pause. He turns his gaze to Gabriel’s face and tries not to acknowledge the mild satisfaction he gets out of the way their eyes seem to always magnetize to each other. “You’re leaving the day after tomorrow?”

“Probably.” A bit of the tension in Gabriel’s shoulders fades. “That week sure went by quickly, huh?”

Jack nods, studying Gabriel’s face a little longer. “I see.”

Just as he’d known all along. Gabriel is going to walk right out of his life and never come back. After this week, they would never see each other again.

“Anyway…” Gabriel rubs the back of his neck. “No hard feelings?”

He’s a dead man walking, Jack reminds himself. Gabriel is going to go off to war and will surely get mowed down by a Bastion in some desolate warzone, or perhaps sacrifice himself for some terrified children.

This is the end.

“Yeah,” Jack says. He smiles as bright as he can despite how it makes the muscles in his face ache, carefully noting the way Gabriel’s mouth falls open just a bit in understated awe.

Soon, he’ll be alone again.

“Does this apology cover the part where you called me handsome?” he asks.

Gabriel stands a little straighter, like he’d been given a static shock. “I… If you wanted it to?”

Jack makes a show of thinking it over, tapping his index finger against his lips and frowning. “Hmm. Well, did you mean it?”

Gabriel swallows visibly, the tips of his ears hot pink. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Jack smirks. “Don’t take it back then.” He returns his attention to the chickens and casually adds, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Thanks,” Gabriel replies dumbly. “Uh. I have to go check in with my team so…” By the time Jack nods in acknowledgement, he had already fled.

Jack sighs as he puts the basket down, dropping his smile immediately. He rubs at his cheeks, trying to massage out the faint twinge of pain. He’d often heard as a child that it was dangerous to maintain the same expression for too long or his face could get stuck that way. He’d always scoffed at such an idea, but now that he’s been trying to smile again after years of impassiveness, he’s beginning to think there might be some truth to it.

Gabriel didn’t seem to notice, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d flirted with anyone, but Gabriel was so painfully obvious about his interest that Jack’s lack of practice didn’t seem to make much of a difference. Hell, it had been a long time since Jack had _spoken_ to other human beings regularly and even that didn’t put Gabriel off at the beginning, so maybe it was unsurprising.

It was all so easy. Maybe that’s what settles like a weight in Jack’s stomach, uncomfortably warm and slimy. Gabriel is _easy_. Easy to talk to, easy to be around, easy to care about…

Easy to lose, Jack thinks fiercely. Gabriel is leaving and never coming back. He’s going to slip through Jack’s fingers and die on some battlefield and Jack won’t even _know_.

He wonders, not for the first time, if it would be worth having some harmless fun before he’s left alone again.

* * *

Jack glares at his bedside alarm clock, daring it to go on to the next minute. Unfortunately, being an inanimate object, it doesn’t appear to be intimidated and continues counting the seconds anyway. He tries shutting his eyes briefly and then opening them again to see if it makes any difference, but no, the clock ticks on with or without him.

It hits midnight and he shoves his thin blanket aside to sit up. Usually he can tune it out, but tonight, the incessant tapping of the second hand is grating. His insides feel tight and antsy, squirming restlessly such that any random sensation is bound to grind on his nerves.

His room is too small, too hot and stuffy in the dark. He gets the distinct impression that it’s more cluttered and cramped than he remembers it being when he first laid down. There’s no way he’s gong to be able to sleep in this state.

He resists the urge to kick something as he shoves some pants on and makes his way downstairs. His plan was to hang out in the living room, maybe watch some television until he’s tired enough to pass out, but as soon as he gets there he remembers that Liao is currently occupying the couch since he drew the short straw when they were deciding sleeping arrangements.

Jack resolves never to let people crash on his couch again as he tiptoes outside.

Something eases up under his skin the moment he steps into the fresh air, like the knot in his stomach slowly uncoils with every breath. He doesn’t bother putting on shoes as he walks into the grass. The tiny blades between his toes are an anchor as he cranes his neck to look up.

The sky stretches out above him, vast and positively cluttered with stars. The moon is merely a sliver in the distance, allowing the stars to shine brightly without any competition. It’s dizzying, the sheer size of it all quite simply beyond human comprehension.

“Jack?”

Gabriel’s voice brings him down to earth as he lowers his gaze back to eye-level. It’s dark and his weak eyesight makes it difficult to discern details, but that’s definitely Gabriel standing a few feet in front of him.

Gabriel grins and the flash of white teeth is a little blinding. “What are you doing out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jack says. “You?”

“Same here.”

They wordlessly sit next to each other in the grass, Gabriel with his legs stretched out and leaning back on his hands behind him, Jack with his knees pulled to his chest and his hands clasped around his ankles.

“There’s so many,” Gabriel says, voice low and reverent. “I don’t think I’ve seen this many stars in my whole life.”

Jack hums an acknowledgement. “Light pollution must be a bitch in LA.”

Gabriel laughs softly and lays back, hands behind his head. “Yeah. It’s kind of humbling, seeing how big the universe is, huh.”

“Yeah.” Jack stares at the sky until his eyes start to tear up from being open for too long and he blinks the wetness away.

“Like this, you can almost forget there’s a war going on,” Gabriel murmurs.

Jack nods, even though Gabriel isn’t looking in his direction. He knows what Gabriel means. “We’re so small.”

“Yeah.” Gabriel chuckles. “It’s a little scary, isn’t it? Us humans are so self-important, but we’re really just little specks of dust floating in space.”

“It’s not,” Jack says firmly. “Scary, I mean. Being so insignificant…” He sighs and shuts his stinging eyes to give them a break, resting his chin between his knees. “Isn’t it kind of comforting? Knowing nothing matters.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…” His brow wrinkles in thought. “Our lives are so short. We’re just tiny dots on a tiny planet hurtling through empty space around a sun that will someday die and wipe out this tiny section of the universe. And the rest of the universe is just going to keep on existing, with or without us. All the mistakes we make, all the stupid shit we do, none of it is going to matter in the grand scheme of things.”

“Huh…” Gabriel falls silent, thinking that over for a minute. “I guess I can see where you’re coming from. Puts things into perspective, so the bad stuff doesn’t feel like the end of the world.”

“Mm-hm.”

“But that doesn’t mean nothing matters.” He pauses, the gears turning in his brain practically audible. “Our lives might be small, but I have to believe that it means something. I have to believe that there are things worth fighting for, or there’s no way I can go on.”

“What’s the point?” Jack asks, looking over. He means it, too. He really wants to know.

Gabriel shakes his head. “I don’t know. But I don’t think there has to be a point. This is the only life we’ve got and we should make the most of it while we can. Find what’s important to us and protect it.” He smiles at Jack. “Isn’t it nice to know that, out of all the countless things that could have happened in this huge universe, we had the chance to live?”

The way he says it makes Jack want to believe him. He stretches out too, lying on his back to see the stars spread out above him, grasping for the hope Gabriel sees in them. He shuts his eyes and breathes deeply, taking in the gentle wind across his face and the smell of the grass, Gabriel’s faint warmth beside him.

But when he opens his eyes, the starlight is cold.

He doesn’t have anything to protect or fight for. He’s just existing, waiting for his time on this earth to end so he can become a part of the meaningless oblivion that waits for them beyond the inky-black sky. Same as the stars, born only to die burning themselves out for the sake of it. And by the time their light reaches the earth, they are already long gone.

It’s a little strange, realizing he’s looking at a field of star corpses.

“Do you believe in aliens?” he asks abruptly, just to hear his own voice, just to reaffirm his existence before he gets lost in the expanse of nothing.

“You’d have to be pretty stupid not to,” Gabriel replies. “If not right now, they definitely have – or will – exist _somewhere_ at some point, you know? The universe is too big for us to be the only life out there.”

“Yeah. That’s what I think too.” Jack pauses to sit back up and Gabriel does too, turning his body to face him. “I’ve met one before.”

“Really?” Gabriel sounds doubtful. “What, did they come down in a flying saucer and ask to be taken to your leader?”

“Nah, they crashed in my backyard and tried to kill me,” Jack says nonchalantly.

“What?”

“Then they had the gall to sleep in my house and eat my food for a week.”

“Oh my god,” Gabriel groans.

Jack smirks. “One of them was pretty hot though.”

“Why thank you,” Gabriel says with exaggerated gratitude. “I always knew I’d make a sexy alien.”

“I was talking about Reinhardt,” Jack corrects.

Gabriel gives him a light shove. “Fuck you, man.”

“What can I say, he’s tall and his hands could fit around my whole waist.”

“What, this waist?” Gabriel’s hands come up to grasp just above Jack’s hips, giving a gentle squeeze. “No way, you’ve been eating too much cornbread.”

Jack grabs his wrists, a thrill running up his spine at the contact. “Listen, not everyone can have an inhumanly perfect hourglass figure like you.”

“You calling my figure perfect?” Gabriel asks with a suggestive grin.

Their faces are inches from each other. Jack can feel Gabriel’s breath against his lips. “From a purely objective standpoint.”

“Is that so?” Gabriel is leaning in just the slightest bit closer. “You have no personal opinion?”

Something squeezes in Jack’s chest.

He wants Gabriel to kiss him.

“Nope,” he says quickly, tearing Gabriel’s hands off him and practically knocking Gabriel over in his haste to get up. “Look, I’m supposed to be up early, I really need to get back to bed.”

“Oh.” The disappointment in Gabriel’s voice is palpable. “Okay.”

Jack hesitates, grasping for something to say. When he can’t think of anything, he turns on his heel and leaves without a second glance.

He’s perfectly calm as he walks back to his room. He shuts his door, careful not to make any noise, and crawls back under his covers. He rolls onto his front and buries his face in the pillow. He’s fine. Nothing happened.

Gabriel’s handprints burn under his clothes. He pulls his blanket around him tighter, as if to overwhelm the sensation with the near unbearable heat of his room.

He’s just lonely, he reminds himself. He’s kept his human contact to the absolute bare minimum since he came home from the army and it’s only natural that he’d be inclined to latch onto the first person who showed any sign of interest. For that matter, Gabriel is also probably desperate for some kind of connection, any kind of escape from the sheer stress of his position.

It’s not like there’s even room for anything more significant anyway, between the rapidly approaching end of the week and Gabriel’s almost certain death waiting just around the corner. This weird tension between them is just something they have to get out of their system, that’s all. They can deal with it tomorrow before Gabriel leaves, get it over with and put an end to this whole encounter forever.

Despite these self-assurances, Jack knows he won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: [Now featuring art from @whiteshadeopale](https://twitter.com/whiteshadeopale/status/965336737483550720)! Thank you!!!
> 
> This is the last of the chapters I had pre-written, so unfortunately the next update will take a little longer to come out. However, I will try to have it up as soon as possible!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm also on twitter @firesonic152 where you can find a bunch of my threads and stuff. Also, if you like my writing, [consider supporting me with a ko-fi!](https://ko-fi.com/A2214IAS)


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